Call Me Crazy
by Moko-Moko Monster
Summary: What happens to The Joker after he's caught and taken to Arkham? And who is the young doctor that thinks she can fix him? And most of all how the hell does romance come into play here? A Joker x Harely Quinn fic. set after TDK.
1. Chapter 1

"Ah, home sweet home!" he said as he was dragged forward by two S.W.A.T. team members into the gates of Arkham Insane Asylum.

"Shut up," one of the guys said, sneering down at the man in clown makeup.

"Grumpy today aren't we? Tell uncle J. all about it, now don't be shy." He replied, licking his lips and giving the officer an understanding look.

The S.W.A.T. member's face contorted with rage and a muscle in his jaw twitched, "I said shut up, you sick freak! You think this is a game!?"

"Tsk, tsk, now I _know_ that I haven't done anything to harbor such resentment from you in the short time we've known each other. Or have I?" The joker replied, shooting his captor a look that said 'well what can you do?' which only seemed to anger him more. The S.W.A.T. team member clenched his teeth and brought his fist down as hard as he could across Joker's jaw.

"Shut the fuck up!"

There was an audible cracking sound and the Joker grinned, twisting his neck back around to look at the suddenly furious S.W.A.T. member.

"I sense some pent up anger," he paused for a moment to crack his neck a bit, "you should really get some help, you know how things like that can drive you mad, one day you'll just," Joker paused and made some hand gestures, " ….snap you know?"

The guard's face, which was already contorted with rage turned pale with horror and rage. The Joker cackled, shaking with laughter inside his straightjacket. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the guy raise his fist, ready for another blow, but the other S.W.A.T. team member stopped him.

"Calm down Artie," he said, tightly restraining his partner's arm while holding onto The Joker's straightjacket with his other hand.

"The sick freak's enjoying it!" Artie said, sending a glare the Joker's way. The Joker smiled back at him pleasantly.

"Yeah well, he won't be laughing once he's inside those gates. Nobody laughs in Arkham."

Artie seemed to calm down a little bit, looking from his partner, to the gray brick gates in front of them, and then back to the Joker. Suddenly he started laughing and he shook his head.

"Well, wouldn't want to keep the crazies waiting now would we Clown face? Come on Carl; let's show him what Gotham's finest look like."

* * *

"Name?" the voice from the other side of the intercom said and the young blonde girl leaned forward and cleared her voice before pressing the button and responding.

"Doctor Harleen Quinzel," she said clearly.

There was a silence as the secretary on the other side typed something in her computer.

"Oh, we have been expecting you Doctor, I'll open the gate and the guard's will lead you to Doctor Leland's office." She said after a moment.

"Alright." Harley said, stepping back and watching as the gates to Arkham slowly opened. She could feel the butterflies in her stomach. Her face was covered in cold sweat, causing her glasses to slip down her nose a little. She pushed them back up and took a deep breath; she couldn't quite decide whether all this commotion going on inside her was because of nerves or excitement, although she suspected that it was both.

The guards quickly ushered her into the asylum and closed the gates behind them, they didn't say anything to her besides the initial 'hello' and she decided to take the opportunity to look around a little.

The inside of the infamous Arkham Asylum was surprisingly clean; with pale linoleum floors and sterile-looking white walls. But it was dark, and the whiteness seemed sinister and cold in the dim light. She could hear the prisoners howling and shouting from behind their iron doors as she walked and she looked around at the cell doors, wondering what was going on.

"Don't worry Doctor, they're fine, they're always like that." One of the guards leading her said, looking back at her and smiling in a comforting way. She smiled back, feeling a little uneasy, but she quickly shook it off. She had come here for a reason, to meet the most dangerous criminals, the most unstable, and take apart the inner workings of their minds and what better place to do that than at Arkham? She wasn't about to go all weak kneed at this point.

"We're here," the guard said suddenly, causing Harley to jump a little, she had been absorbed in her own thoughts; she hadn't even noticed where they were going.

"Um, thanks," she said, trying to regain her composure. At least the butterflies were mostly gone, she could do this; she knew she could do this.

The meeting with Doctor Leland went well, she explained to Harley what her job implied, her hours, what time was lunch and where everything was located, so all in all it was a relatively boring meeting.

"Well that's all settled, is there anything else you need Doctor Quinzel?"

"Please call me Harley, everyone does. And yes, actually there is something." Harley paused for a moment, leaning forward in her chair and looking at her senior intently, "I'd like to meet the prisoners. If that's alright with you of course."

"Um, I'm sorry, but it is your first day, I can't allow you to have meetings with every single patient…" Leland said, blinking slightly in surprise. Harley shook her head.

"No, no, I don't want to have a session with all of them. I'd just like to observe them, I don't even have to talk to them, but I'd like to know their names and why they're in here."

Doctor Leland sighed, "I'm sorry, but there are far too many patients here for me to allow you to profile every single one."

Harley paused for a second, she needed to meet the prisoners; it was the only way for her to figure out which ones she should take on. After another second of thought, Harley smiled.

"Okay, how about I just meet the most dangerous one then?"

"The most dangerous one?" the dark haired woman said, looking up at Harley with a look of both amusement and surprise.

"Yes." Harley said, standing up and leaning forward over Doctor Leland's desk so she could look the older woman straight in the face. The butterflies were gone, her palms were dry and her vision was clear. She had a plan now, and she would follow it through to the end.

There was a long pause and then finally, Doctor Leland laughed.

"You're a tough one. Alright, we just got a new patient about a month ago, you might have heard of him. They call him 'The Joker'." Leland paused for affect, observing Harley's reaction to the famous name.

"The Joker?" Harley said, stepping back and sitting back down in her chair. Jackpot, Harley thought, feeling a little breathless with her luck. What were the chances of her arriving at the same Asylum that the Joker was staying at? This was fate.

As the older woman looked at the young doctor she saw a glimmer of excitement flicker in her eyes and had to chuckle to herself. She could already tell what was going on in Harley's head; she thought she could cash in on The Joker, that she could crack open his brain and pull out what nobody else could.

Well, let her revel in her fantasy, Leland thought as she leaned back in her chair, it won't last very long anyway.

"Yes, the Joker. You want to meet him?" The doctor said, already knowing Harley's answer.

"I wouldn't be opposed to it."

* * *

The Joker had to admit that the asylum wasn't quite as much fun as jail had been. His cell was small and dark, although that in itself wasn't really the problem; the problem was that they had left him all alone. If they weren't going to give him a cellmate to have fun with they could at least give him a radio or something, it was so boring.

There wasn't even a guard outside the door that he could bug. Joker sighed dramatically and licked his lips, running the tip of his tongue over his scars; he had grown to love them like children. They always made him smile.

He chuckled a little at that thought and sat down on his bed.

The Joker leaned back in his cot and positioned himself so that his head was hanging over the side upside down. Sitting in his new position he giggled, thinking about his adventures on the outside ever since Batman showed up.

"I wonder how our little delinquent is doing now?" he giggled, Gotham was in chaos now, and it was all batman's fault. The best part was that he didn't even know it was his fault! The joker laughed louder, his nasally voice echoing off the cell walls, that was the best joke of them all! And Batman was the punch line!

After his laughter died out he sighed, biting his lip. It was just no fun without someone cowering in fear or agreeing with him.

"Oy Joker!" a voice suddenly said on the other side of the door, "There's someone here to see you!"

The Joker grinned and flipped himself over quickly so that he was sitting right side up on the bed.

The Joker blinked as the light flooded into the room, the hallway wasn't very bright in the first place but compared to the darkness of his cell it was blinding.

"Hey Joker, I have someone I'd like you to meet." The Joker recognized the voice as Joan's, his current psychiatrist and sighed. She wasn't much fun at all, she was as stoic as a rock; she was no fun to play with at all.

As his vision cleared he saw that there was someone else with her, the Joker quickly scrutinized her. Young, probably in her late twenties, with thick blonde hair pulled back into a bun and thick black glasses that were obviously not prescription. She was wearing a white jacket and a very short white skirt and even though she was obviously trying to seem calm and in control he could see the fear and excitement behind her eyes.

The joker finished looking at her and smirked, turning to look at Joan Leland.

"Why did you bring me a hooker?" he said, looking genuinely confused.


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note: I know this chapter doesn't have enough Joker in it, but don't worry Mistah J will be the main focus next chapter. PLEASE REVIEW, it's what motivates me to keep writing.

Harley froze, the phrase The Joker had just uttered echoing in her head. 'Why did you bring me a hooker?' Did he seriously just say that?

"Hey, don't-" Doctor Leland began to say, her usually stoic face flushed with embarrassment and shock, but Harley stopped her. The shock had worn off, she really should have expected The Joker to say something like this; he wasn't exactly known for being polite after all.

"No, I am not a prostitute Mr. Joker; I'm a new psychiatrist working for Arkham. Nice to meet you." She said, looking at him straight on, trying to hide her embarrassment and nervousness.

The Joker stood up and walked over to her, bringing his face close to hers, then he smiled.

"Oops." He said, shrugging and laughing a little. Harley felt his laugh travel down her spine and it made her shiver.

"No problem." She said, her voice steady, despite the way her hands were shaking. He didn't miss her shivers, and he licked his lips.

"But I must say you _are _quite beautiful, you remind me of my mother." He said reaching up a gloved hand to touch her face. He was surprised when she didn't shy away from it; she just let him touch her, her blue eyes growing wide.

"What was she like?" she asked, her throat dry and her heart beating out of her chest. This was her chance, she had to let him get close so that he would trust her, maybe he would tell her something.

"Oh she was just like you," he murmured, licking his lips, "She cried a lot, sometimes she would just walk into the closet, lock it up behind her and start to scream. She would pretend that she wasn't sad to the neighbors and the family, but I knew," He paused, running his hand over Harley's cheek down to the corner of her mouth, "I didn't ever want to see that frown on her face again; I just wanted everyone to smile. So I went to the bathroom and grabbed a razor and I made these scars," he said running his other hand over the knotted scars on his face, "then, still bleeding, I went into her room where she was sleeping and gave her some matching ones. 'See now you'll always smile!' I said and she screamed and screamed. She killed herself after that; I guess she just couldn't live with a smile."

The joker had watched carefully the expressions that passed over the young woman's face, first came shock, then pity, then sadness, then shock again. For a shrink she was ridiculously easy to mess with. How fun.

After he finished his story he heard her gasp and he giggled, removing his hand from her face.

"Now now, don't be sad, she just didn't get the joke." He said, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her face. She felt drawn in by his eyes, by his voice. He knows something, she thought, something that nobody else does. How can he be so happy?

"That's quite enough Joker, Ms. Quinzel is a busy woman, she can't spend all day listening to your ramblings." Doctor Leland cut in, breaking the spell that the Joker had put her under.

"Um, right. Goodbye Mr. Joker." Harley said, taking a step back. The Joker looked at her, tilting his head to the side.

"Well aren't you going to at least tell me your _name _after I just told you something so _personal_," he said.

"What?" Harley said, blinking at him. She really hadn't told him her name? It had really slipped her mind, she had been so caught up in him, and she couldn't begin to think about herself.

"Oh, um, Harleen Quinzel. My name is Harleen Quinzel," she paused for a moment, looking down, away from his sharp eyes, "But you can call me Harley Quinn if you want."

There was silence, and then the Joker began to laugh. She had never heard anything like it; it was frightening and comforting at the same time and she got the feeling that it was the first honest laugh she had ever head. This was the first time she had ever heard someone laugh because they _really_ found something funny. It was strangely intoxicating.

"You're a strange one, _Harley Quinn. _Come visit me sometime." He said, through his laughter.

Joan Leland grabbed her by the shoulder and said, "Come on Harley, let's go."

Harley reluctantly left, the Joker's laughter following her.

* * *

It was only after she arrived home that the full meaning of what the Joker had said hit her. How did he know that she cried all the time? How did he know that the stress ate her up sometimes and she would just go into the closet and scream? How did he know that almost all her smiles were fake?

She sunk into her couch and began to shiver, but no matter how many blankets she covered herself with the cold wouldn't go away, it penetrated her and laughed at her, making her shake and whimper with the stark honesty of it. How did he know? How did he know what nobody else could?

With a shaky hand she reached her hand up to cover her eyes, but in the darkness behind her eyes she saw his laughing face again. He was happy. He was free.

She shook her head violently, what was she talking about? He was _crazy! _He was just playing games with her; he just wanted to make her confused. She was the doctor and he was the patientand she would be the one to fix him, then she would publish a book and she'd have everything she ever wanted. Money, fame, a stable life.

_But_ _do you really want those things? _A voice inside her whispered.

"Yes." She said out loud, trying to keep her voice steady, "Yes, I want that more than anything!"

She threw the covers off of her and stood up, running to the bathroom and leaning forward into the mirror to stare into the eyes of her reflection.

"He thinks he can play games with me, but I won't let him. I'll win! I always win!"

* * *

The next day Harley walked into Doctor Leland's office with new resolve. She would be the Joker's psychiatrist, his _only _psychiatrist.

"Is there something wrong Harely?" Joan said, looking up from her paper work to see the young Doctor standing in front of her desk.

"I would like to take on the Joker. Full time." She said.

Doctor Leland stared at her in shock. After the episode yesterday she didn't think that Harley would want to see the Joker again, she should've realized how incapable she is to deal with that kind of psychotic criminal. But Harley seemed even surer of herself than she was yesterday.

"I don't really think you're ready to take on the Joker ,"Joan replied carefully.

"How can I prove that I'm ready?" Harley said, ideas racing through her mind on how she could make this work in as short amount of time as possible.

"Well, if you can prove that you have a thorough knowledge of the patient himself, and if you can prove your worth as a therapist in your own right then I suppose there would be no problem with you becoming his psychiatrist." She said, but the longer she talked the less of a good idea it seemed for Harley to go anywhere near the Joker. But what can I do? Doctor Leland thought, she's already made up her mind.

"Thank you Joan. I'll prove my worth to you within the month, I promise."

With that said she left the older woman's office and went back to her own, but when she arrived she gasped at what she saw there.

Sitting on her desk was a bouquet of green roses with red stems. She slowly walked over to them, her heart beating fast and her palms growing sweaty.

She picked them up and smelled them. They smelled like normal roses, except for the strong scent of paint. Why are they painted this way? She wondered, and as she looked at them she noticed a small card attached, and with shaking hands and the butterflies from the day before fluttering in her stomach she read it.

'_To the Ditz in fake glasses,_

_Not everything has to make sense. Life=chaos. Fix me if you can._

-J'

"How the hell did he know these were fake!?"


	3. Chapter 3

Authors Note: I just want to thank everyone who's taken the time to read this and I also want to ask that if you liked it PLEASE tell me! Just a small little comment will make me more than happy!

* * *

"Hey boys, I think I have a stalker," the Joker giggled to some guys that were sitting near him in the main lunch area. They froze and stopped chewing on the mush that Arkham called food. They looked up at him blankly.

"T-talking t-t-to m-m-me?" one of them stuttered out, half of his face twitching. He didn't seem particularly frightened; he didn't have enough brain cells left after all the medication they put him on for that kind of complicated emotion, no, he was just naturally twitchy and stutter-y.

The Joker's smile evaporated immediately at the sight other inmate's blank reaction.

"Yessss I'm talking to you," he said sneering and grabbing the other guy by his shirt and bringing his face up close to his. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the guards rushing towards him and he sighed, letting go of his hold on the other man.

"What the hell are you doing!?" one of the guards said, and the Joker licked his lips.

"Me and him?" he said, acting shocked, "We were just having a conversation, weren't we Frankie?" he said, renaming the other patient. 'Frankie' stared up at them, he had already forgotten what had happened a few moments before and was currently wondering why he wasn't eating. He couldn't think of a good reason, so he turned away from them and resumed his grazing.

The guards seemed at a loss for a moment, looking first from the Joker's giggling face then back to 'Frankie' who probably couldn't even remember what his last name is, let alone any scruples he had with the Joker.

"Uh, well I suppose if nobody's hurt then," the guard said, reluctantly admitting defeat. The Joker licked his lips and grinned at them.

They seemed annoyed but they just ignored him and turned around, there would be plenty of other chances, knowing the Joker.

After they had returned to the corner of the room the Joker's smile faded and he tapped his fingers on the table, it was so boring here. That S.W.A.T. team guy wasn't kidding when he said nobody laughed in Arkham, the last entertaining thing he had seen was when that blonde shrink came in and……

He blinked. Oh yeah. He had forgotten what he had been talking to 'Frankie' about in the first place. He sat up and looked around, she had moved since he had first seen her… ah! There she was.

The blonde had followed him, although she was in disguise. She was wearing a normal Arkham inmate uniform, she'd ditched the glasses and her hair was up in two pigtails.

"Tsk, tsk," he said as he looked at her, shaking his head, "Not very good at disguises are we Doctor…." He paused for a moment.

What was her name again? It was like a motorcycle….. Harley. That was it. _Harley Quinn_. He giggled at the memory, oh she was _fun._

He licked his lips and looked at her again. She must've gotten the roses, he thought as he cracked his knuckles. Well she _had_ seemed like the type a girl who'd jump at a good challenge.

Eventually their eyes met and she seemed startled. He smiled and crooked a finger at her, beckoning her to him. Even from across the room he saw her gulp, and she gave him a look that said 'who me?'.

He raised an eyebrow at her. Really? She was still trying to pretend? Well, he had to commend her perseverance, if nothing else.

"You, yes, come here," he said, beckoning her once again. She seemed reluctant but smiled weakly and made her way over to his table, albeit slowly.

"What do you want with me?" she asked as she sat down facing him at his table. Her voice was more high pitched than usual, and she had a slight accent, but it didn't seem put on. Her voice from when she was doing her job must be the fake one.

"Now, I like games just as much as the next guy, but what are you doing here Doc?" he replied, licking his lips and raising his eyebrows.

She paled and her eyes widened, "H-how could you tell?" she said, returning back to her shrink voice.

He lowered his eyebrows and his face suddenly grew dark, in one swift motion he leaned across the table and grabbed one of her pigtails, wrapping it around his hand and pulling forcefully pulling her face close to his, causing her eyes to water.

"Don'.Me." he said slowly, narrowing his eyes, "I said, 'why are you here?'"

Her eyes shifted to the corner of the room where the guards were, hoping that they would step in, but they weren't paying attention and didn't even see them and if she screamed the Joker would probably gut her. The rest of the cafeteria was also dutifully ignoring them; she was on her own in this one.

"I-I was observing you," she whispered after a few seconds of silence, her face pale and her eyes wide.

"Oh really?" he said, his expression lightening. He let go of her and she sunk back into her seat gratefully.

"Doctor Leland has stated that I need to show a certain understanding of your 'situation' before I'm allowed to take on your case, so here I am," she said quickly. She didn't sound all that scared now that he had let her go, just nervous; like she was on a job interview.

"You know Doc, I've never met a shrink who was so concerned with my _well being_ that they would hide out in a shitty cafeteria and 'observe' me. I have to say I'm touched." He said mockingly, leaning over the table and placing a hand under her chin, drawing her face close to his. She didn't shrink away, and she didn't avoid eye contact, which surprised him. Maybe she has some guts after all, he thought, a smile spreading across his scarred face. He liked that.

"Well I think you're worth the trouble," she said, a little breathlessly. He laughed at that one, dropping his hand and pulling away from her.

"Oh you're good. I underestimated you." He said, smiling and resting his face on his hand, looking at her thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" she said, tilting her head slightly, her eyes wide and innocent. Damn, the Joker thought, I wish she had really been a hooker; she'd be a good lay.

"Why are you chasing me?" he said seriously, lifting his face from his hand.

"The roses," She said quietly, "You sent those roses as a challenge. How could I possibly refuse?"

"And? What else? You're not that simple are you?" he cackled and she blushed beet red.

"No. I wanted money too, money for publishing a book on you." She said, looking away from his steady gaze. He licked his lips and sighed, shaking his head.

"Ouch, honest aren't you?" he said, mockingly grabbing at his heart as though she had shot him. She smiled weakly.

"It's one of my best features," she murmured, looking away. He stopped his little act and looked at her, licking his lips and raising his eyebrows. He had never met such a horrible actress in his life.

"Okay, what else? Tell uncle Joker all about it, don't be shy," he said, pushing some of his fading green hair out of his face; he really needed to dye it again soon, it was starting to go back to brown.

"You'll just laugh at me," she said, looking up at him dubiously. He started laughing, loudly, making everyone in hearing range uncomfortable.

"I laugh at _everyone_, it's all part of the job," he said smoothly, then, suddenly his face changed and grew dark, "Now tell me before I _make_ you tell me."

"Fine, alright," she sighed, "It's just, I think that there's a good person inside of you. Somewhere."

He did laugh at her, and she blushed again.

"I never took you for an optimist Doc," he said, his brown eyes flickering with laughter and something a little more dangerous.

"I'm serious. I don't think you're as bad as they say." She said. Now she was the one leaning closer so that she could look him in the eyes. Her eyes were set and steady, an expression he didn't recognize on her face, he had only seen her when she was nervous.

"Oh no," he said, standing up and leaning over to whisper in her ear, "I'm much worse. I _am_ the demonic shadow of Gotham after all."

She pulled back and sat down.

"You can't cast a shadow without a light source, and I'm going to find yours, even if you kill me first." She said, lacing her fingers together on the table.

He looked at her for a moment, and then sighed in defeat, plopping back down into his seat.

"Can it least be a demonic light source?" he asked, a pleading look on his face.

She had to cover her mouth to suppress a giggle.

* * *

That night Harley went home in a much better mood than she normally did. She had been really scared at first, especially when he had grabbed her by the hair, but the longer she had talked to him the more she began to realize something. He was human. Everyone looked at him, and spoke to him, as though he was a monster. But he wasn't.

She remembered how angry and scared and irritated she had been after that first meeting with him and she felt ashamed. What had she said? That she would win? This wasn't a game, _he_ wasn't a game.

He's just misunderstood, she thought, nobody cares about him, nobody looks at him as a person, that's why nobody's been able to get through to him. I'll be different; she thought as she brushed her teeth and tied her hair up for the night, I'll care for him.

She yawned and walked out of her bathroom and into her bedroom, her feet making soft thumping sounds as they hit the beige carpet. But just as she was about to crawl into bed she spotted something green and red in her waste basket and went over to look at it.

It was the dyed roses the Joker had given her a few days ago. She had forgotten that she had taken them home to contemplate them and then had thrown them away, feeling empty and irritated.

"What was I so mad about anyway?" she murmured as she picked the roses up out of the trashcan, "They're just roses."

She brushed them off and looked at them again. They really were beautiful, and she rather liked the green for the flower part and the red for the stem part, it was eccentric but cute.

She decided to put them in a vase, the Joker had gone to all that trouble to get them to her, it would be a waste to throw them away…..


	4. Chapter 4

Authors Note: I hope you like this chapter, and don't worry, this will have a legit plot soon, these first chapters are more like the background story than anything. REVIEW OR DIE! Also I am so sorry for the loooong delay. It's been a ridiculous amount of time and I am so sorry. I totally lost my inspiration for a while, but now I have it back and am planning on updating regularly.

Harley had thought it would take at least a month of close 'observation' to get what she wanted, but it had only taken about a week. Apparently the Joker had personally requested her, which made her blush for reasons she couldn't quite fathom, and they had no good reason to refuse. It wasn't like he was asking for a bomb or drugs; they weren't trying to deprive the patients of anything, and all he was asking for was a certain therapist. How could it possibly hurt?

"I don't like it." Joan said, pacing Doctor Arkham's amazingly huge office. It was probably eight times as big as hers, but the window still faced a brick wall just like everybody else's did. This always gave her a small sense of satisfaction, money can buy you a lot of things but a good view was apparently not one of them.

But today she was too agitated to derive any satisfaction from such trivial matters.

She may have been Harley's boss but anything she may have said or wanted could be easily overridden by Arkham, which irritated her to no end.

"Ms. Quinzel is a perfectly capable psychiatrist Joan, and the Joker requested her himself. I don't see a problem," he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. She paused in her pacing and snapped her head around to look at him.

"You don't understand! She doesn't understand, _nobody_ seems to understand how dangerous he is," she said, her eyes flashing behind her glasses. He sighed and shook his head.

"If you're that worried about her safety we can put him in a straightjacket and even a muzzle if it would please you. There is nothing to be worried about, The Joker cannot and will not physically harm Ms. Quinzel," he replied, his words slow and clear as though he was talking to an idiot. Her face contorted with barely controlled rage, but her voice was cold and steady when she spoke.

"It's not her physical health I'm worried about _sir_, it's her mental health."

"I'm growing tired of this conversation Joan, if you have nothing relevant to add then can you please take your leave? I have work to do, and you are probably abandoning a patient to be here, am I correct?"

Doctor Leland opened her mouth to argue but could find no words. She couldn't win. Everyone was against her on this and there was no way to fix it. The only thing she could do now is hope that Harley could keep herself in check around the Joker.

She was back to being nervous again.

He had been eerily silent when she had entered the room. And she couldn't help but think that he seemed uncannily comfortable, lounging in his straightjacket as though it was just a normal jacket that didn't have to state its sexual orientation.

That joke surprised her and she couldn't help but giggle a little at the strange places her thought process went when it was left unchecked, which made him raise an eyebrow at her, which made her nervous all over again.

But she eventually sucked it up, slowly lowering herself into the somehow arrogant looking red chair across from him, and began to speak in the sophisticated 'therapist voice' that she had trained ever since she had escaped from New Jersey.

"Hello Mr. Joker, how are you feeling today?"

He licked his lips slowly, feeling irritated that the usually irritating taste of lipstick wasn't there.

"_Bored_," he snarled back at her, tapping his bare foot on the floor. She blinked at him, feeling both intimidated and energized by his frightening demeanor.

"Well that's what I'm here for right?" Harley had to resist from covering her mouth in embarrassment. It had come out before she could think about what she was saying, a purely instinctual answer to his question.

The Joker stopped tapping his foot and looked at her, forgetting about his lack of proper attire in his genuine surprise. He had already gathered that she was an extremely naïve, stubborn and overall an easy person to manipulate, but he hadn't really done anything yet. He had already begun to set up the stage but the act hadn't even begun, she wasn't nearly brainwashed enough to be willing to go along with him.

The only other option was that she was trying to fake him out, make him trust her, but he didn't really want to give her that much credit. She didn't really strike him as the sharpest knife in the drawer after all.

Then he smiled. Who cares? She was going to do _something_ for him eventually, who cares how or when she went about it?

"Oh really now? And just _how _are you going to entertain me _Harleen_?"

She still had the nervous feeling in her stomach, but it had transformed into a different kind of butterflies. The same kind that she had when she went on her very first date at seventeen.

"Well, I'm here to talk to you after all, you can tell me anything. I'm sure that you must be going crazy in your cell, with nobody to talk to."

The Joker froze, the smile disappearing off his face as quickly as it had come.

"_Crazy_? Did you just call me _crazy_?"

Harley saw the muscles in his jaw tighten, saw the white cloth that kept his arms closely wrapped against his chest stretching from what she could assume was from the effort of him pressing against them, and mostly she could see his brown eyes burning into her in a kind of controlled anger.

He could kill me; she thought suddenly, he could kill me right now. Even with a straightjacket on, he could do it. He would find a way. He would figure it out.

She saw her face reflected in his hard eyes and she realized, truly realized what it felt like to be beyond terrified. She imagined all the ways he could kill her. He could strangle her, or slit her throat, or cut her wrists, or maybe torture her, rape her, give her scars to match his own.

She felt a cold sweat break out all over her body, but somehow she didn't feel like running. She was scared, she was really scared, and the voice in her head that usually directed her actions told her to run, run as fast as she could while she has the chance, but she didn't want to. She didn't know why, but she just didn't want to.

"This place would drive any sane person over the edge," she said eventually, her mouth dry, her palms sweaty, her heart beating fast.

The Joker processed that for a moment.

"I don't take kindly to being called crazy, but saying I'm sane is quite a leap isn't it _doctor_?" he was grinning again, a big greasy lock of greenish brown hair falling over his right eye, a hoarse chuckle escaping his throat .

"Probably," she said, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards. She still could hear her heart beating inside her chest, her hands were still shaking, but she had always been stubborn and determined when it came to focusing on a single purpose, and now that purpose was him. She could be as cool and collected as she needed to be. Because it was all about him.

He could see her eyes locking in on him like a heat seeking missile, and he laughed.

"He he hoo ha ha he he ha ah ah…." he giggled for about three minutes before it finally trailed off, wishing that his arms were freed so he could wipe his eyes. This was _good_. This was _too good_.

Harley was feeling a little unnerved by his laughter, but she wasn't scared anymore.

"Would it be okay if we talked about why you're here?" she finally said after he had stopped laughing and silence had descended.

He looked at her, raising his eyebrows and licking the corners of his mouth.

"Oh of course _Doctor_, I'm at your _service_."

"Um, okay," she blinked, a little shocked that this was going so well, "Why do you kill people?"

The Joker sighed dramatically, "You shrinks, you put far too much importance on such _things_."

"You don't think that killing is _wrong_?" she asked, leaning forward a little over her clipboard.

"_Wrong?" _he ran his tongue over his teeth, "_Silly girl_, you're not looking at the whole _picture_."

"What am I missing?" she asked, feeling a little breathless but trying to hide it.

"What is the meaning of life Harley?"

"What?" she blinked and sat back quickly in surprise.

"Exactly. Do you want to know why you don't know?" but he didn't wait for her answer, "Because _there is no purpose_. Rules are just an attempt to _give_ your pathetic little lives a purpose so you don't just go and kill yourself. All you _law abiding citizens_ are just _rodents, _yourun round and round on a _hamster wheel_ until you get so exhausted from running in circles that you just _drop dead_. But me? See I _get it_."

"Get what?"

He licked his lips and leaned over on the couch, "Harley _my_ dear, life is just a game. And _everybody _loses. And what is the purpose of any game?"

"What?"

"To have _fun_," he leaned back and smiled widely, crossing one leg over the other, the chains on his ankles clanking loudly, "And nothing is more fun than shaking up the _hamster wheel_ and seeing what the little _rats_ will do."

Harley jumped when she heard a knock on the door. It was Doctor Leland.

"Harley, I don't know if you're aware of it but your time with the Joker was over fifteen minutes ago."

Harley blushed and quickly looked at the clock. She was right.

"I-I'm sorry, we were just really reaching a good place, I didn't want to lose it."

She looked over at the Joker again as she stood up, and he raised an eyebrow at her, tapping his foot on the linoleum floor in a kind of hypnotic rhythm that she vaguely recognized.

Joan pulled her out of the room; feeling deeply disturbed by the look Harley was giving the Joker.


	5. Chapter 5

Authors Note: Okay I finally wrote another chapter! Yay! Finally it's getting good! I had really intended to drop this story because I was convinced that it wasn't any good, but your reviews, even the short ones, really inspired me to keep going. If you guys could just review, it can be good or bad, heck it can even be one word, I'd appreciate it and I promise to update as fast as I possibly can. Thanks so much for reading; you guys are the fuel that keeps me going!

-X-

It was two months later that Harley returned home and realized for the first time that she hated her apartment.

She had never really noticed how empty her apartment was, to be honest she had never really looked at it, it was always just a place she slept in. It didn't have any comfortable looking furniture besides a white bed and a white couch. Her walls were blank, there was no coffee table or T.V. and the only books she owned were her patient's files and a couple books on psychiatry.

It had never really bothered her before, but all of a sudden the blank whiteness of it made her feel sort of…..lonely.

"What am I talking about? It's just an apartment, why should I clutter it up with useless crap? I don't need little knick knacks to remember things that are important to me, my white walls are perfectly fine with me, thank you very much," she grumbled to the empty room.

To be honest she had always had a memory just short of photographic, which made it all the harder for her to understand why anyone would need pictures of vacations and little family events, she just couldn't understand how they could possibly forget such things.

But still, just because she could remember everything didn't mean that her home had to be so cold, it was downright depressing.

"Ugh!" Harley slipped off her shoes and threw herself onto the bed, feeling confused and frustrated, "I don't know what's wrong with me lately, I mean look at me, first I'm complaining about the apartment I've lived in for the last three years, and now I'm talking to myself. Jeez Harl, get a grip!"

She fell onto her bed with a plop and turned her head to look at the painted roses that the Joker had given her. It had been weeks now but it still hadn't wilted, the paint must have petrified them.

She smiled at them; they were such a joyful little things, with their painted red stems and their green petals. She tore her eyes away from them and looked back at her white walls, her white floor, her white bed; her smile fell quickly.

That little flower seemed so lonely in this white room; it damn near broke her heart.

"Hmmm, maybe it is time I painted this place," she said out loud, sitting up in the bed and stretching, "I mean, what could it hurt?"

-X-

"Hello, how may I help you?"

Harley smiled at the man behind the counter and stood on her tiptoes so she could peer at the paint selection stickers over his shoulder. She was feeling a little giddy to be honest; it had been a long time since she had done anything so spontaneous.

"Hmmm, how about you just give me one of everything?" she said after careful consideration, there were too many beautiful colors in the world for her to just choose one.

His eyes snapped up from the piece of paper he was writing on and he stared at her as though she had lost her mind, "Excuse me Ma'am but we have over a thousand colors, how could you possibly put every single one to use?"

She considered that for a moment, tapping her nails against the countertop while she stared at the color board.

"I suppose you're right," she said finally, smiling brightly, "So how about you just give me all the base colors. You know, red, yellow, green, blue, and throw in some purple too."

He blinked at her, "Uh, um, alright. W-what shades would you like?"

"The brightest shades you have of course!" she laughed, as he quickly scurried away. She leaned back against the counter with a sigh, she knew she was acting like a loony, but well, it was kind of fun.

-X-

What had started as an orderly application of paint ended with her just grabbing handfuls of different colors and flinging them at the walls. But after she finished the walls, she still had a lot of paint left and the floors and furniture was so ugly compared to how pretty the walls looked now, so she dumped paint on them too, sparing only her bed from the onslaught.

When the paint was finally all used up and every single surface of her apartment was a trippy Technicolor mess she sat down on her newly painted carpet and studied her handiwork.

"Wow… it's beautiful," she whispered, wiping the sweat off her brow and smearing some orange paint across her forehead in the process. The carpet was still wet from the paint as were her bed sheets and her couch, and she was sure they would all be stiff and nasty when they dried but she didn't care. She still had a bed to sleep in; it looked cool and most of all it had been fun.

Wasn't that the only rule to this game? That I have fun? She thought, remembering what the Joker had told her a few days ago. She was starting to think he had a point, and deep down inside her she knew that that was a frightening thing to admit, but just because he was a sociopath didn't mean that he couldn't have some things to say, some things that were worth saying. Right?

-X-

Right now he would give anything for a spork.

He could do a lot of things with a spork, he could probably dig his way out of this cell with a spork, he could get out of his straightjacket with a spork, he could kill his guards with a spork, he could capture Batman with a spork. Yes, there were many possibilities there.

But he didn't have a spork, a fact that was causing him increasing irritation.

"This place is such a_ bore_ Jacko! Don't you want to come in here and _play_ with me?" he yelled at the guard who was now permanently stationed outside his door.

Ever since that whole incident with the straw and stick of gum in the cafeteria they had put him under max security, he was in his straightjacket at all times was not allowed to leave his cell except for his therapy sessions and they found the most boring guard they could manage to 'take care of him'. He was starting to look forward to his little therapy sessions. _Harley Quinn_ of course was a complete fuck up as a therapist, but she was a fun toy and he didn't really need a therapist after all. He needed a toy. Or a spork.

"No," the guard answered pulling the Joker away from his thoughts.

"Who said _you_ could talk to _me_?" he snapped, ignoring the fact that he had started the conversation in the first place.

The guard didn't say anything, figuring that the Joker was just in one of his moods again, and he was once again left alone with his thoughts….. which brought him back to his earlier predicament. Damn, was there anyway he could get a spork?

"Hey Joker, your little girlfriend is here, it's one O'clock," the guard said, opening up the door and letting the hard light of the hallway filter into his cell.

"Aw _sweetheart,_ it's been such a long_ time_ since I've seen your pretty _face_. Do I get a _kissss_?" he said, and Harley blinked in surprise.

She could tell that he was mocking her, although she couldn't really understand why or how. She wasn't stupid; she knew that most of the things he said were meant as jabs, that every word out of his mouth had some kind of double meaning meant to confuse and injure and infuriate. She also knew that he thought she was weak and stupid, he thought she was a bashful preteen that didn't know how to act most of the time, a young, naïve fool. And to be honest, for most of her life she had been this way, on the outside. Her shyness, her instincts told her to stay away from people, to hide her personality, to not stand out too much. That was why she liked listening to other people talk about their problems, that way she could hide herself and yet still have human interaction.

But the Joker was different than other patients. She was quickly realizing that in order to get something, you had to give something in return. Sometimes what you gave was greater than what you received, but to be honest, she was finding that she was okay with that.

And this feeling, this lack of reservation was starting to spread to all faucets of her life, she was feeling free for the first time in her life. She wasn't afraid of things anymore, her sensitive fight or flight instincts had been worn down to the nub, and all her reservations, all her fear had dissipated.

So it didn't take much thought for her to step inside his cell and plant a big sloppy kiss on his scarred cheek.

"Why of course puddin', it's so nice to see ya again," she said, smiling brightly at him and dropping her shrink accent to let her childhood in Jersey shine on through.

The Joker was a little shocked, although he would never admit it, especially not to himself. He had noticed her loosen up a bit over the last few months, but this was a whole new level of loosening up.

He had never met a girl that would kiss him without a knife to her throat, and while that had always a very enjoyable experience (he especially liked it when they fought and he had to cut them a little) he definitely liked this fearless show of affection just a tad bit better. To be honest he was more than a little turned on.

"You missed," he chuckled darkly, licking his lips. Harley felt her heart stutter a bit, and that little nub of apprehension told her to stop playing with fire, but she ignored both feelings and straightened.

"Now, now puddin' not when people are watchin'," she giggled, winking at the guard, who was looking a little green.

"Oh, you _are_ such a _tease_," he said, the words and the tone were light on the surface, but she could feel a kind of bite underneath the surface which made her jump. She wondered if she would ever understand what he really meant when he said things, but in the end she supposed that she would just have to keep trying.

"Don't we have a _therapy_ session to attend to _Doctor_?" the Joker said, tapping his foot on the floor in genuine irritation, the moment had already passed and he was starting to get bored again. She looked him in the eyes for a moment, surprise flickering across her face. His mood was like a swinging pendulum, except it didn't just go back and forth, it went in a million different directions. It was frustrating to say the least, but it was a challenge, and she liked trying to keep up although she didn't know if she could match his pace, but she could try.

"Of course," she smiled, reverting back to her therapist voice and turning to the guard, who looked like he had been encased in amber judging by the color of his face and his motionless state, "Could you escort Mr. Joker to the therapy room please? I would do it myself but I'm afraid that I couldn't restrain him if he decided to get a little…frisky."

The Joker cackled and if his arms weren't restrained he would have slapped his knee. She was just too good; she had officially earned her place as his second favorite toy, and he couldn't wait to see her crumble in his grasp. Her trust of him was going to shatter soon enough, and he was looking forward to hearing her dying screams.

But that was for later.


End file.
